Beyond Dreams 7OUT OF PRINT
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GREAT EXPECTATIONS by Anna S. Greener
LEARNING
HOME by Sundara
BONDS OF LOVE AND HATE by Lady Ra
DON’T MESS AROUND WITH JIM by Gigi Pinckney
TIES THAT BIND by Elise Madrid
THE
HIDDEN by Kate Cooke
DEBT OF HONOR by Brianna Falken
From Great Expectations
by Anna S. Greener
They were doing it again—rolling around on the bunk fully clothed, kissing and
groping each other like a couple of overheated teen-agers. This time they were
in Spock’s quarters. Both of their earlier encounters had taken place in Kirk’s
cabin, and both had ended in frustration. At least, that was what Kirk had felt.
He wasn’t sure about Spock. After all, their first encounter had ended because
of Spock, who had abruptly pulled away from a lengthy kiss with a muttered
excuse about having to meditate. At the time, all Kirk had really wanted to do
was to pull him back down on the bed and ravish him to within an inch of his
Vulcan life, but he had let him go, gracefully, without a word of protest. It
had been the right thing to do. Kirk had no doubt of that. It would have been
the right thing to do with anyone under his command, and Spock was far more than
a fellow officer. He was a friend—the best that Kirk had ever had. If preserving
that friendship meant ending the most eagerly anticipated sexual encounter of
his life with a cold shower and a self-administered hand-job, that was a price
the captain was willing to pay.
As for their second encounter, Kirk would never know how it might have ended if
they’d had a chance to keep going. It had begun well: Spock’s kisses had been
even hotter and more forceful than during their first encounter, and his hands
had kept straying to Kirk’s ass, caressing the still-clothed buttocks, finally
daring to favor the left globe with a hesitant squeeze. Seconds later a red
alert had sounded, summoning them both to the bridge to deal with a Federation
freighter’s report of a Romulan warbird on the wrong side of the Neutral Zone.
They had spent three days on full alert, reconstructing the ghostly trail of the
suspected intruder, only to discover that it was not a Romulan ship at all, but
an Orion pirate hauling contraband. It had taken another couple of days to
transport the seized ship and its crew to Starbase Three.
But now, at last, every obstacle had been cleared away: the Enterprise was
cruising in Federation space bound for what promised to be an uneventful supply
drop at 40 Draconis III, and her first officer and captain were off duty and in
bed, with twelve free hours in which to finally take care of some very important
unfinished business. Well aware that emergencies could arise even on the dullest
milk run, Kirk had instructed the computer to route his calls to Spock’s comm
unit, after prudently disabling the unit’s video screen. Being prepared for the
unexpected was a habit he’d had drilled into him at the Academy and it had saved
him more times than he could count. Still, he didn’t think there would be any
interruptions this time. All of the anticipation was about to pay off, all of
the frustration was about to vanish, because this time, they were going to do
it. Shirts off, pants off, hands on cocks, mouths on cocks, maybe even more than
that if Spock wanted it, but most certainly, most definitely, hands and mouths,
caressing and squeezing and licking and sucking until they were both totally
sated. Tonight the captain of the Enterprise was not going to have to beat off
alone in the shower just to get some relief. Tonight was going to be perfect.
Absolutely perfect. Kirk was certain of it—he knew it, he could feel it, the
same way he could feel it when an enemy was lurking in the shadows waiting to
pounce or a Klingon commander was about to try some clever, completely
unorthodox battle maneuver. Oh yes indeed—the famous Kirk intuition was up and
running, fueling that lovely combination of strength and self-assurance that had
always served him so well on the bridge, sending confidence surging through his
veins, overcoming any lingering traces of worry or doubt or last-minute
nervousness or….
From Learning Home by Sundara
“Jim….” Spock stepped closer to keep his words private. “When my father told me
you’d petitioned him for admittance to the kaunshaya, I admit I was
quite…surprised. You had said nothing in our recent conversations leading me to
believe you were contemplating this step. It was never discussed beyond our
conversations of a few years ago.”
“Ah, but I did tell you I was planning to come to Vulcan. Before I said why,
though, I wanted to make sure I would officially be allowed to participate.
Didn’t want for us to plan on it, then find out it wouldn’t be possible. You
know, when I called your father, I did have a moment of anxiety, wondering if
you might not be interested. I had hoped to ask you myself, but every time I
tried, I couldn’t reach you, and Sarek said he’d take care of it.”
“Jim….” Spock looked at me with obvious affection. “There was no doubt about my
response. Look within. Your concern was never necessary.”
I looked up into Spock’s familiar, intent eyes, and spoke the truth that had
become plain to me since retirement. “I missed you this past year, Spock…. After
the past thirty years, you’re a, a part of me. I couldn’t let more time go by
without coming here.”
His face shifted with great satisfaction. “I, too, have missed you, more than
you know. For us to attend the kaunshaya with my father’s sponsorship is, to me,
a gift beyond price.” Deeply meant words from my usually reticent friend, and
they touched me deep inside.
Spock’s expression suddenly became very serious. Reaching out, he grasped my arm
tightly with his long fingers, surprising me with his action. “Jim, Sarek
arranged for sufficient tri-ox and salt tablets for you. You must promise me you
will remember to take them regularly, and drink sufficient water.”
“Of course.” I recalled the months I’d spent on Vulcan during my exile. I’d
never last a day without the tri-ox and salt, never mind the water. “But I trust
you to bug me anyway if I forget. That’ll be your job,” I said jokingly to ease
some of his sudden tension.
Spock frowned at me silently for some long seconds. “Jim, I will once we’re
together, but until that time, it is important that you remember on your own.”
I looked at his oddly intent face and a sudden apprehension shot through me,
leaving a sick feeling in my overly warm and perspiring body. “Spock…what do you
mean, once we’re together?”
Now it was Spock’s turn to eye me with unease. “Jim…you are aware that we will
be separated at the beginning of the challenge?”
“Separated?” I was stunned. It was one thing to want to attempt the challenge
with my best friend, a native of the planet, but it was quite another to traipse
off into the unknown Vulcan wilderness all by myself. I might be crazy, but I’m
not stupid. “Uhhh…no. That I didn’t know.”
From Bonds of Love and Hate
by Lady Ra
Spock sat on the edge of his bed, trying to compose himself. He didn't know how
he was supposed to survive this with his sanity intact. It was sheer torture
being with Kirk, and the stress of trying to hide his thoughts and emotions from
his bondmate was beginning to tear him apart.
He hadn't wanted to bond with T'Pring, but his position on the subject had been
nothing compared to hers. Spock didn't understand why she hadn't challenged the
bonding. It would have been better if she had. Death would be preferable to
this.
But she hadn't challenged, seeking revenge instead by taking up residence in his
head and intermittently spewing her anger, her loathing, her shame at being his
bondmate, her determination to make him miserable for every second of his long,
interminable life she forced her way into.
When she was making her presence known, every thought he had, she belittled.
Every emotion he experienced, she shamed him for. Every time he looked at Kirk,
or thought about spending a minute of time with him, she dripped acid into his
soul.
Though only a few weeks had passed, Spock was beginning to forget what it felt
like to have someone's warm regard, to have a sense of self-worth. His sense of
self was slowly being eroded away until his only place of safety lay in being
perfectly Vulcan, with no stray thoughts, no errant emotions, just pure logic
and dedication to duty.
Even then he wasn't free of her hatred, but it was diffused, less vituperative
without something concrete for her to latch onto to destroy.
The thought of doing a meld and subjecting anyone, especially Kirk, to the venom
in his mind was abhorrent. But the thought of never touching Kirk's mind again,
of never feeling that quicksilver laughter and easy affection as their minds
slid together, even in the guise of work, was almost too much to bear.
Spock had hoped that his human heritage might have spared him the Pon Farr, that
he might be free to choose his own bondmate. And he had begun to hope, after
spending weeks cautiously dissecting Kirk's behavior over and over again, that
Kirk was perhaps willing to explore a deepening of their relationship.
But then his body had betrayed him and, as helplessly as a rat in a maze, he had
been pulled back to Vulcan, to bond with one who despised him.
From Don’t Mess
Around with Jim by Gigi Pinckney
Spock tilted his head, alarmed by the sudden, unexpected roar of an engine being
gunned. “McCoy!” Both knew the doctor was not the best of pilots.
“Shit! Come on! Bones is going to crash the damned car!”
Both men exited the house as fast as they could manage and stopped in their
tracks. The garish little misshapen aircar was already hovering over the
designated parking pad, then lowered, close, closer. And settled safely with
only one considerable thump! The whining engine stopped immediately.
Kirk let out his pent up breath. “Thank ghod, he’s down in one piece. Holy shit!
Look at what he’s driving! Pussy-wagon yellow with titty-pink trim! And enough
chrome-plating to cover the biggest Klingon dick in the Empire!”
Spock was not registering much of Kirk’s awed and vulgar comments. “That is the
most—the most aerodynamically-unsound vehicle I have ever seen. What is that
large, black—that black ’thing’ attached to the top? Surely, that cannot be part
of the design!” Spock was pretty certain that somewhere there sat a drooling
aero-designer locked into a strait-jacket.
Unlike Spock, Kirk now recognized exactly what the big “black thing” was. It was
an old-fashioned, cast-iron, wood-burning, rotisserie/grill/smoker, and dear to
the heart of any Terran who had ever tasted a genuine, rare beef-steak cooked to
fork-tender, succulent perfection on a— ”Barbecue grill!” Kirk squealed like a
girl and ran toward it.
From Ties That Bind by
Elise Madrid
Spock sighed. “ … They took from us what we had worked our entire lives to
achieve. I could not readily forget such a transgression. But, Jim,” he rose and
came to sit beside his lover, “is not that achievement worth fighting to
reclaim?”
Kirk didn’t answer at first. Instead, he appeared to be studying the flora
surrounding them as his eyes were drawn time and again to the canopy above.
Finally, he looked back at Spock. “What about what we have here? Can you so
easily let it go? Because I can’t. I won’t lie to you. I miss the Enterprise. I
think I always will. But I don’t want to go back to the way we were before:
afraid to touch each other, afraid to show too much in front of the crew. We
don’t have to worry about that on Warrior’s Oath. Do you know that even while we
sat there with Nyota and Hikaru I was worrying about my image? How stupid is
that? And what will going back do to you?”
“I do not know to what you refer—”
“Don’t give me that,” Kirk vehemently responded. “Don’t you think I’ve noticed?
Damn it, Spock, I would have to have been blind not to see it!” He leaned
forward and placed his hands on Spock’s shoulders. “I can feel you, all the
time. Here.” He brought one hand back to touch his forehead. “It was never like
that before. What that tells me is that you’ve opened yourself in a way you
never did before, not even to me. And every time I look at you I can see the
difference. You’re happy here. I don’t want to take that away from you!”
Spock looked down, unable to hold the intense gaze of his lover. “My happiness
does not reside in this place. It resides with you.”
“Don’t you think that would be awfully self-centered of me not to realize that’s
blatantly not true?”
He looked up then, willing Kirk to understand. “It does not matter where we are
as long as we are together. I know that my contentment appears to have been
caused by our return to Vulcan, but, Jim, you must believe me when I say that is
not true.” He reached up and took Kirk’s hand from his shoulder and gathered it
up with its mate to cradle them within his own. “I cannot imagine my existence
without you. It has been thus almost from the very beginning. You complete me.”
“We complete each other,” Kirk gently responded.
“Yes. And because of this, I have found that my happiness is inextricably linked
to yours. You would never be happy, knowing that you could have regained what
you had lost but did nothing.”
“What if I don’t want it anymore?”
“That does not matter. The man you are will insist on righting the injustice
that was done to us.”
Kirk pulled one hand free and used it to bring Spock closer until their
foreheads rested against each other’s. “You know me way too well for your own
good, do you know that?”
Spock only smiled and moved closer still to cover Kirk’s mouth with his own.
(a sequel to The Exile in Beyond Dreams 4.)
From The Hidden by Kate Cooke
“Come closer, James Kirk.” An austere sorrow seemed to come into the the old
woman’s face as she tilted her head and raised her hand, saying softly, “Let me
have your thoughts.”
Spock saw Kirk take a steadying breath and still his body as he centred his
courage and will. He looked lonely there in the middle of the temple floor.
T’Lar was a regal figure whose headdress made her seem taller than the human man
who faced her. The gong sounded and T’Lar touched Kirk’s face. He didn’t move a
centimetre.
Observing the mind meld was a peculiar experience. Although neither partner
moved, they seemed to change profoundly, as though they had withdrawn from
physical reality. The bodies took on the air of the inanimate. Spock was
disturbed to see Jim thus.
Abruptly, T’Lar removed her hand and stood back; Kirk sagged slightly and
recovered while T’Lar did a most surprising thing. She tore off her headdress
and loosed her long grey hair.
“You have been wronged!” her voice rang around the temple. “You have been harmed
in a way that cannot be expunged and all Vulcan is shamed.”
Spock was beyond shock when, with immense dignity, the Priestess knelt down in
front of Kirk and bowed her head in the ancient manner, showing the back of the
neck. He felt the astonishment of the watchers like a stun blow. No one was
capable of movement.
Jim’s countenance seemed to soften and his face was full of gentleness as he
stepped forward. “T’Lar,” he called softly. She raised her head. “Lady. Give me
your hands.” Slowly, she did so and he raised her to her feet, an old woman with
dishevelled hair, her eyes fixed on those of the human. “The crime was Sybok’s
alone,” he said in modern Vulcan. “I don’t hold your world responsible.” After a
moment, Kirk released her hands and stepped back.
T’Lar addressed him, her voice weary, “The hurt Sybok inflicted eleven years ago
cannot be undone and has left thy mind bound to Sybok’s. I have not the power to
free thee. Only the masters of Gol have that ability. The bond is dormant at
present but thou must avoid all mental contact until the masters have freed
thee.” Here she glanced over at Spock.
Kirk’s head dipped, and then he, too, looked straight across to Spock. None of
the psychically sensitive adepts in the temple could have read Kirk’s anguish
and yet, to Spock, that subtle widening of the eyes was like a cry. Spock went
to him and, after a slight hesitation, Sarek followed.
T’Lar spoke to the ambassador. “You must petition T’Sai of Gol. Only at Gol
could this crime be mitigated. They nurture there the gifts of the mind and
their powers are greater than mine. I regret I can do nothing.”
(a sequel to Starbase Eighteen, published in Beyond Dreams 6)
From Debt of Honor by
Brianna Falken
The Vulcans unchained Kirk from the post, then each took an arm and dragged him
away. Kirk raged at his own impotence as fear and anger battled for supremacy in
his mind. Why were they taking him to Spock? What was going to happen? He’d
heard the rumors of what Vulcans did to their prisoners, the atrocities they
performed. Stop it, he ordered himself. Those stories were just the usual
propaganda one side in a war told about their enemies. None had ever been
corroborated. Control. The first order of business was to survive, then escape
if possible. Pay attention to the surroundings. He concentrated on that. Out of
the hangar bay…turn left…into a turbolift…up four decks. He kept track every
step of the way. The information could be useful later on. They stopped at the
third door on the right, pressed for admittance and, as the door swished open,
the guards shoved Kirk in.
Kirk slowly straightened up and met the Vulcan’s eyes. “James
Kirk—Captain—serial number 607943679182.”
Spock swallowed heavily and placed one trembling hand over the other on the
desk. “Captain Kirk,” he said in perfectly enunciated Standard. “Know that I
regret what is about to take place in these quarters, but I have no other choice
if I am to survive.”
“I’ll tell you nothing but name, rank and serial number.”
“I do not require any military information, Captain. Unfortunately for us both,
what I require is a bit more personal.”
“And that is?”
“The temporary use of your body and a small portion of your mind.”
Kirk gasped and felt the color drain from his face. He took an involuntary step
backward. “Over my dead body.”
“I hope it will not come to that, for dead, you would be of no use to me.” Spock
stood up and moved out from behind the desk. “I find myself reluctant to take
you against your will. However, if that is what must be….”